Conceivable
by BaneofOrcs
Summary: Sequel to Inconceivable. Upon learning of the true strength of the Kyr'am, HIGHCOM has asked for volunteers to strike the heart of the murderous race. Sop 'Vamdee leads the charge, but will face a Kyr'am hell-bent on avenging his brother. Rated T.


**-Conceivable-**

**-Chapter I-**

_**Aboard Conceivable: Sop 'Vamdee 2230 hours October 23rd, 2605**_

Sop 'Vamdee looked at the new battle-cruiser sitting above Earth, being worked on by three different building platforms. It was three times the largest ship in orbit, even out of the Sangheili ships.  
And it was his. After he, the Spartan, and Chase had found the blueprints to the new Kyr'am ship, the U.N.S.C and Sangheili officials had immediately started on a new ship using the shield and weapon technology from the Sangheili and the armaments from the U.N.S.C, along with a few ideas from captured Kyr'am gear.  
He looked away and at the pilot of the single Pelican he was flying in. The man was young, and nervous. He kept looking back at Sop and averted his gaze whenever the Sangheili caught him looking.  
"How much longer until we dock?" he asked, walking up behind him.  
"Uh. Um. Two minutes, sir," the kid was sweating, a stench that made Sop's nose burn.  
"Good. Contact Halge'zec and tell him our estimated arrival time."  
"Yes, sir."  
Sop walked back and sat down in one of the seats, looking at the empty bay. It had been a year since the blueprints were found. A year since he had lost his dear friend Charlie. A year since two planets and countless lives had fallen before the new ship. And now, it was time for payback.  
They drew closer to the ship and angled towards one of the ship's fiteen launch bays on the starboard side. The doors opened and allowed the Pelican entrance. Sop watched as the pilot landed in the first clear space and let the ramp down.  
The Sangheili jumped off and met his navigational officer. The old veteran had a mandible missing from where a Jirlhanae had caught him with his paw. Needless to say, the Jirlhanae had lost more than a part of his jaw.  
"Ship Master," the Sangheili greeted, extending his hand awkwardly.  
Sop shook it. "Halge 'zec. How are things going on my ship?"  
"They have finished working on the upgraded engines and Shaw-Fujikawa drive. Our armaments have been filled."  
"What do we have?"  
"Three hundred missile pods. Two MAC guns. Thirty Energy Cannons. And, with the new engine, we can fly faster than anything the Kyr'am have."  
"Good, good. Status on how long until we are ready to leave?"  
"Actually, we can leave now."  
"I meant until the shields are comepletly finished and troops loaded."  
"Three hours."  
Sop nodded and headed for the elevator, admiring the purple-grey walls. Human and Sangheili architect coming together to make the ultimate ship. He stopped before a door. A small, holographic keypad stood floating from an even small projector.  
He looked at his navigational officer. The Sangheili ran forward and typed in three numbers from the Sangheili and Human languages.  
"We use both for security purposes," Halge'zec explained. "Your code is here." He handed over a small datapad. "This was made by the humans, it helps us communicate better than what we had previously been using."  
"Thank you."  
The two walked onto the bridge. Two humans stood at different positions around the bridge. A Sangheili sat at a terminal close to the command chair. Everyone turned when the door opened.  
The two humans snapped to attention and brought their hands to their forehead in their traditional salute, the Sangheili thumping a fist to his chest. Sop returned each gesture and sat in his command chair, one that was specially designed for him.  
A small hologram appeared in the right armrest. It was the list of repairs. Everything that was done had a check beside it, unfinished ones were in red lettering.  
Another hologram flickered to life on the left armrest and showed the bridge crew's personal files. A flap from the headrest extended and came before his face, which another hologram flickered to life. It showed a camera view of the outside of the ship.  
"Who the hell is doing that?" he yelped, startled by the sudden amount of activity.  
"I'm sorry, I get excited sometimes," a female voice responded by his head. He turned to see speakers coming out of the extendable flaps.  
The holograms immediately shut off and the flap went back into the chair, extending out beside his head so he could see it in his peripherial vision.  
"And who are you?"  
The left armrest sprang to life again and a holographic image of a young human female appeared. She wore brown and black leather armor with a sword strapped to her back. Her blonde hair hung freely down to her shoulders. Her green eyes had algorithms running through them.  
"I'm Izzabelle. Your A.I," the woman said, bowing slightly.  
"I argued that we didn't need one, but they were persistent," the third Sangheili grumbled.  
Sop waved his hand to silence his kin and looked at the Artificial Intelligence. "Nice to have you aboard."  
She nodded and hopped off the armrest, walking around the room. "The builders made this room so I can walk anywhere I want, so I don't have to be stuck on a holopad or something else."  
"I see. Are-"  
"Sir, incoming transmission from Earth!" one of the humans said. A quick glance at his file revealed his name to be Hunter.  
"Okay. Put it on the viewport."  
An image flickered to life, blocking out the stars behind it. A middle aged man stood wearing a white navy dress suit. His left breast was decorated with more than fifteen medals and awards.  
"Ship Master," he said.  
"General," Sop said, nodding his head.  
"Listen, the troops are coming aboard ahead of schedule. We intercepted a Kyr'am transmission. They are in the next system."  
"And you want us to leave ahead of schedule, finish building another time?"  
"No. All of our repair stations are being moved from their current assignments to come help you. As soon as the ship is done, I want you leading a small strike against them."  
"I understand. Have your satellites detected how many there are?"  
"Yes. We estimate about ten ships. Take the _U.N.S.C Coffee Maker _and _U.N.S.C_ _Nottingham_. And also the _Hilt of the Sword_. I figured you'd feel more at ease if you had one of your own kind's ships with you."  
"Thank you, general. How long is the estimated time until comepletion once the new repair stations have begun work on the _Conceivable_?"  
"Fourty minutes."  
Sop nodded.  
"Good luck, Sop 'Vamdee," the general said, saluting.  
Sop returned the gesture and motioned for his communications officer to shut off the transmission. The viewport once again showed the vast sea of stars.


End file.
